Page 92 of Exile

Alexander spots me tensing up, dragging the barrel down my back. "You really should know better than to head to the morgue unsupervised," he taunts.

"What are you talking about?" I snap back angrily, earning myself another painful jab.

Whittingham laughs darkly, his amusement pissing me off. "We sent them down there to search for you. Damon's team are quite easy to fool. All we had to do was replay old footage of you and they walked straight into our trap. Ironic, given they passed you in Christopher's office and didn't stop to check. We should thank you, really."

"Why?" I croak out, feeling my strength start to fade into panic.

Alexander's cold hand brushes my hair off my neck. I resist the urge to vomit as his fingers caress the junction between my throat and shoulder. "You're the weakness we've been waiting for—the one thing that Damon loses focus over. Now, once we kill you, we'll be able to finish what we started. So, thank you, Avery."

I refuse to cry. I refuse to let these men see me beg for my life.

They are wrong. I'm not Damon's weakness—I'm his strength. And whatever happens to me, I've protected Damon. Alexander won't get his grubby hands on those shares.

Elsher growls, stomping over uncharacteristically toward me. I have no time to react, even without the gun pressed into my back, as he flings his arm forward and slaps me hard in the face. "Not to mention you killed my nephew. You are exactly who I thought you were, Ms. White."

I stumble into Whittingham's desk with a wince, clutching my cheek as my ears ring. Fuck—he hits even harder thanAlexander. "I didn't kill anyone," I lie through clenched teeth, feeling blood dribble down my cheek.

Arthur leans forward, hitting a key on his laptop before spinning it around to face me. There, in black and white, is me and Theo in the downstairs lab. I'm very visibly dousing chemicals everywhere before Rian steps into the view of the camera.

My eyes widen in horror—not because they have me on footage committing murder, but because…

"Rian was your nephew?" I finally mumble at Elsher.

He doesn't reply, but the loathing in his eyes confirms my question.

Swallowing, I ignore the footage playing, willing myself to stay calm. "I thought Rian was related to a board member—Henry."

If I distract them, maybe it will buy me some time. I'm also hoping that somehow, the cameras in here will pick up our conversation and Byrone can access it. If investigators are coming, this is the evidence we need to bring them down. Our camera was destroyed, but maybe Jillian can access to Lilydale feed if they haven't been blocked out.

If I can talk about the investigation, maybe I can incriminate them.

But they know this too… and they are still willing to kill me for it. If they are going down, then what do they have to lose?

Alexander knows we've backed him into a corner. Knows we've fucked them. I'm the punishment, the collateraldamage as they resort to extreme measures to bring down Damon before their world comes crashing down.

"My brother-in-law," Elsher spits out. "You little bitch. I knew you'd kill again. That's all you're capable of."

I bite my lip painfully when Alexander moves the gun to my head, pointing the barrel directly into my skull. "Any last words, Avery?"

"Yeah," I breathe out, shooting a quick glance at Elsher before sneering at Whittingham. "Go to fucking Hell."

Bang.

Chapter 34

Damon

** Five Years Ago **

"I'm so sorry for your loss, Damon."

I instantly recognize the softly spoken voice, and despite my deliberate efforts to ignore everyone here, I choose to turn and acknowledgeher.

"It's nice to see you, Mrs. Whittingham."

She looks a lot better, unlike me to be honest. Divorce is a fresh start, an exit from toxicity. Death is just… final.

"Your mother was an amazing woman," Mrs. Whittingham murmurs, placing a hold on my arm. "I owe her my life."